The drive to Gloucester was filled with Ianto muttering into the earpiece in Jack's ear, keeping him up to date on the title searches on Ashildr's property. Gwen had arrived at the hub only 20 minutes after Ianto had called him and she had had no compunction about letting Jack know just how she felt about him swanning off without proper backup.
He couldn't explain why he knew that he needed to visit Ashildr's estate alone, she hadn't made any such demand when she had given him the address but there was something in the set of her jaw that made him realize she would not be best impressed if he had come in with the cavalry. As it was, he ordered Gwen to begin to cross reference some of the stories that Ashildr had told him with historical documents that were available to them. Most specifically he wanted her to track down everything she could on the hundred years war as well as the tales of highwaymen from the 1600's when she claimed to have met the Doctor for a second time.
Historical texts could be painfully inaccurate and were more often than not filled with so much hyperbole that historians sometimes just assumed that the naturally superstitious nature of people that lived during those times would have them jumping at simple events that science would later be able to explain away. Jack knew from experience that many times what seemed to be hyperbole was actually rooted in fact and that to the trained eye it would leave a trail of breadcrumbs whose ultimate destination was the truth.
He had used many such historical texts in just such a manner in the past, tracked many of the Doctor's movements through the centuries in his various incarnations when he wasn't visiting modern times. Jack tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel as he made the turn on to the A40 just outside Gloucester, his eyes scanning the large hedges and fields before he found the address he was looking for and he made the turn into the long shaded drive.
He saw the cameras mounted on the posts as he drove through the large gates, his eyes raised to stare directly into the lens so that there could be no doubt he knew that she was watching. The black SUV slowly made its way down the slightly rutted drive, the dirt of the road was more overgrown then it should have been if this had been Ashildr's main base of operations.
He followed the winding path a little farther through a small copse of trees before he was able to spot the manor house directly ahead of him. It wasn't an overly large estate and it had a slightly rundown look about it, but there were obvious signs that there had been some fairly intense activity around the grounds recently.
The garden beds were all tended and prepared for the approaching winter, rose bushes were wrapped in burlap and there were signs of fresh repairs on some of the outer walls. Either Ashildr hadn't owned the place long, or she hadn't been in residence for many years in order to allow the place to fall into such a state of disrepair.
He pulled the SUV to a stop in the round drive, turning the engine off and letting his eyes wander over the windows that were on this side of the property. He saw one of the curtains on the upper floor twitch before being pulled closed and he suppressed the smile at the obvious gesture. She had wanted him to see her, that or she was even more sloppy then he had thought.
He reached up to his earpiece, keying the microphone so that it would remain open without the need to hold down the button. "I'm here now, any updates?"
"Jack the manor was just sold to Ashildr last year, but there's something strange about the transaction. The more I dig the stranger it gets. I've only managed to go back about 200 years so far, but it looks like it is sold every 40 years without fail. An estate agent is never used and all the documentation is handled through a small legal firm outside Cardiff. The solicitor is not listed on any of the transfer documentation which is very strange in and of itself, but it seems that no one ever flagged the transactions and they all went through without any question."
Jack mulled that information over, his fingers drumming a faint staccato on the steering wheel before he asked. "Who did she buy the property from, Ianto?"
"That's just it Jack, I don't know. The names have been redacted from the documentation once they were filed."
Jack grinned as he looked up towards the front door, Ashildr was standing in the doorway with a dark red cloak wrapped about her shoulders in order to ward off the chill of the morning. Her eyes locked with his and with an inquisitive arch of her brow, she stood waiting for him to get out of the car. "Clever girl, she's been covering her tracks. I'd be willing to bet real money that she has been selling it to herself every 40 years in order to maintain appearances, but I can't be sure. I need you to go to the registrar's office and look up the actual transfer deeds to be sure Ianto, but not before I get you a sample of her handwriting."
He made sure to speak with his head ducked so that Ashildr would be unable to read his lips, a motion that he could tell didn't please her in the least if the glare was any indication. Too bad. He found himself thinking.
"Jack, I've been doing some digging on the hundred year's war and there are some paintings that might be of interest of people at the time. I think Ashildr or someone who looked significantly like her was indeed a part of the final battle, but I can't be sure as the images we captured on CCTV were very poorly distorted." Gwen's voice suddenly sounded through the comm. "I'll keep digging but we need more data Jack if we're going to corroborate her story and honestly, digging through old documents may be more of a wild goose chase than flat out asking her."
"Oh I plan to ask her Gwen. I'm going to be digging through her journals, so make sure all transmissions are recorded from now on. I'm keeping this channel open so that between the three of us, we'll figure out just what Lady Me is up to."
Jack then looked up and met Ashildr's gaze, his lips curving into the devilish smile that he knew had the greatest effect, before he got out of the SUV and made his way across the gravel drive to the steps.
"Ashildr."
She nodded her head in acknowledgement, the diamond and emerald brooch once more glittering at the high neckline of the dress she was wearing beneath the cloak. "Jack." She responded just as formally. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to ever get out of the car."
He swept her hand into his, the roguish glint in his eyes flashing before he pressed a gentlemanly kiss to the back of her hand. "Just making sure my team is staying busy, you know how mortals can be always flitting from one thing to another. Always in such a rush."
It was a calculated statement on his part, but it played right into her mayflies comment and would help him gauge which way the wind was blowing.
She merely smiled tightly in response before turning to head back inside. "Not outside, there's always the possibilities of ears about."
Jack pulled his overcoat tight around himself before he looked around the grounds one more time and followed her into the dark entryway.
"I've sent the workers and servants away for the time being. I had a feeling we would want privacy for this meeting. I do have several servants who I do not have to worry about as they are unable to fully read or write, poor things are placed with me by several charities I have done work for in the past. They come to me for experience and life skills but they will never be able to fully function in the real world."
The smell of dust and cleaning agents assaulted his nostrils as soon as he stepped through the door, his eyes adjusting to the dim interior to see that many paintings on the walls were still shrouded in sheets. The massive chandelier above his head was also swathed in blankets though judging by the ladders leaning against the wall, the cleaning would soon begin in this part of the home.
"As I'm sure you can understand, my criterion for servants are rather specific. The last thing I need is a nosy servant digging into my journals out of curiosity."
Jack listened to her words with a soft frown, his gaze moving to the various doors that stood partially ajar off the main entrance. There were far too many windows and doors in this place for it to be easily defended, so he assumed that it was meant solely as a showpiece in order for her to reintegrate into society if she had in fact been hiding away the last few decades. "I can understand the need for secrecy, I personally have never kept servants and usually stayed within Torchwood where my immortality was a well-known fact. I found it easier because then I could more easily gauge any potential enemies."
She merely nodded in response to his words, her footsteps echoed in the large foyer as she led the way deeper into the house before coming to a part of the house that was blazing with light and warmth. It had the look of a study with a massive fireplace before which sat a large wooden desk and several stuffed armchairs. Ashildr was standing by the desk, her fingers tapping lightly against the age worn wood before she slipped the cloak from her shoulders and draped it over the back of one of the chairs. "Would you care for a drink Captain Jack?"
He shook his head in polite refusal of the offer, his gaze traveling from one end of the study to the other before he let the dismay he was feeling show on his face. "Are these it then?"
Ashildr just laughed softly, holding her hand out for his coat so that she could hang it up on the coat rack but he merely pulled the coat tight and stepped away from her outstretched hand. "I'll keep the coat, thanks."
She shrugged and settled into the chair nearest to the fireplace, the dancing flames doing little to dispel the lingering chill in the pit of Jack's stomach. "Suit yourself Jack, though I already know that you came armed. It's not like you're really hiding anything from me."
His eyes locked with hers, the tight smile he flashed in response was all the answer she needed though he did shrug out of the coat after her prodding. Her gaze flicked to the holster at his waist, her lips pursed in thought before she looked up into his piercing blue eyes.
"You have me at a disadvantage Jack. I know you don't stay dead, whereas I am not so sure about me. Do you really think I would invite you here in order to kill you? What would be the point of that, especially seeing as I'd have to keep killing you and so would be wasting an inordinate amount of time with even trying?"
Jack settled into the chair opposite Ashildr's, his legs crossed while he steepled his fingers together in thought. "It pays to be cautious Ashildr. You have to admit that you've been deliberately vague on many things that I have asked you about."
Ashildr shrugged, her gaze drifting to the rows of bookshelves that surrounded them before she looked back to him once more. "That's why I invited you here Jack. I don't remember most of the time as you already know, so I figured if anything my journals might help you make sense of my story. I find myself drawn to them from time to time, it's like reading a grand adventure really at times and it is so hard to remember that these things have actually happened to me at some point in the past."
Jack couldn't stop the sympathetic wince when he heard the longing in her voice, when she spoke of the loss of her memories as if it were merely a handbag that had been misplaced. He found himself once again almost envying her the chance to reinvent herself every few centuries, the complete lack of history was like the slate being wiped clean so that a new chapter could begin. "So you forget everything? Or just certain things?"
She cocked her head at that question, her eyes going distant before she murmured. "Some things remain, like the languages I have learned over the centuries. I've done research over the years that shows language skills are housed in a different part of the brain then cognitive memories. And I could never forget the Doctor, though the details of my two encounters with him blur from time to time unless I go back to those journals and read them again."
Jack looked up, his nostrils flaring as he realized he had the perfect starting point. "Which journals are those?"
She waved a hand behind her, pointing towards the bookshelves closest against the wall. "I have them all organized in chronological order, so the first journals are at that end of the room. Each book shelf holds about thirty years so I'm sure you can figure out where in the timeline my second meeting would be, most likely down at that end of the study." She said as she waved her hand in the opposite direction.
"I guess I'll start from the beginning then and work my way through."
Ashildr arched a brow before she reached into her drawer and drew out a box of latex gloves that she tossed at him. He caught it with a puzzled frown though he couldn't help but quip. "I do usually come prepared Ashildr."
She just snorted and rolled her eyes, the innuendo not at all lost on her but completely meaningless in the grand scheme of things. She was too bored with that side of things to even notice the light flirting beneath the gruff suspicious exterior. "Some of these manuscripts are well over a thousand years old Jack. I would rather protect them from the oils on anyone's hands as they are handled, because the pages are getting quite delicate. I supposed I could transcribe them into fresh journals so that the memories are not lost, but I simply don't have the time to do so. I must keep a constant account of my day to day life as it flows now, and there is no one that I would trust to undertake such a project. So I handle them with care and merely ask that you do the same."
He pulled two black gloves out of the box and snapped first one then the other onto his hand before he nodded slightly in her direction. "Understood Ashildr."
"One other thing Jack. Can you read Old Norse?"
Jack shook his head. "No I can't."
"Then you might want to start on the tenth bookshelf as that is when I learned to read and write in English, otherwise you won't be able to understand what is in those journals."
She sat there watching the expression on his face, the smile that he flashed somehow didn't reach his eyes though she wondered just when in the previous evening he had become so mistrustful of her. It had been a sudden shift when they had left Torchwood and gone to the bar of his friend Frank, but he had suddenly closed himself off and begun to press her for what she remembered of the last century.
She had known that it would take time for him to fully trust her, if he ever possibly could and she had thought that she had begun to make some progress but it seemed all that progress had been lost. He had asked her about the Doctor repeatedly, about the conversations that they had had together and what exactly he had said when she had sat with him in that tavern after the threat of the Leonians had been dealt with. She was lucky she had read her journals with those two encounters just the previous evening as she had known that Jack especially would be keen to know everything that had happened between the two of them, but it had still felt as though that conversation had been held with a complete stranger.
She desperately wanted to get off of this planet, it was driving her mad as with every passing century it felt more and more like a prison. She knew enough about Jack to know that he was from the future and that he had somehow travelled to earth after the Doctor had abandoned him at some point in the future, and she needed his help to finally be able to escape its confines. Perhaps there were beings out there who could help her augment her memory so that she wouldn't need to spend so much of her time in constant review of her journals all to remember a life that seemed to be less memorable by the day.
She knew there were other forces at work where he and the Doctor were concerned, she had glimpsed the current persona of the Doctor travelling to Torchwood several times and so she knew that she was still years away from the time when her version of the Doctor would be visiting earth. She couldn't exactly trust him though as he had abandoned her without a second thought, much as he had Jack when he had first created him.
She had followed up on two of his most recent companions, Martha Jones and Donna Noble though they hadn't known who she was at the time and had merely thought her a young girl that had wandered into their paths. Donna had been searching for the Doctor though and had seemed rather focused on her task, so Ashildr had left her well enough alone though she had seen the both of them together at a later date.
She needn't have hidden herself from this current Doctor as she knew that he wouldn't know who she was, but there was still that thread of caution that had kept her off of anyone's radar for centuries. So she had merely observed and made notes of their movements, before returning back to her travels around the world.
Jack had made his way back to the first set of bookshelves despite her warnings that he wouldn't be able to understand what they said, his hands had reached up and plucked the first one down and even now he was leaning against the wall carefully flipping through each ancient page before moving on to the next.
She knew that his team was monitoring him through his headset, she would have been surprised if he hadn't taken such a precaution. She had also seen the level of tech in the Torchwood hub and thought that he probably even now was having some of those pages translated over the comm.
She sat back, staring pensively into the dancing flames while she wrestled with the strange sense of violation she felt to have a virtual stranger perusing her precious journals. It had been many years since she had read those early journals, mostly because the blind idealism she had felt in the early years of her immortality was enough to make her feel decidedly ill. It had all seemed so grand in the beginning, the sense of adventure that very quickly died as century turned into endless century.
Rising to her feet with a soft growl, she called out to Jack. "I'll go make us some tea Jack. Call if you need anything."
Jack looked up as Ashildr left the room, his brow furrowed at the look on her face. It wasn't that she was hiding something, but he could tell that she was suddenly very uncomfortable with his presence in her home.
The handwriting in these early journals was hesitant, almost as if she hadn't known how to write very well when she had begun to record the events of her life. He wondered if she had known even then that her memories would begin to fade like so much smoke or if she had just wanted to keep a written record in order to remind herself that she wasn't insane.
The pages were a heavy parchment that had obviously been treated and retreated over the centuries though the ink was beginning to fade in some places, the Old Norse words flowing across the page in an unstoppable tide. He was taking pictures of the pages in her journal and sending them through to Torchwood, but he could tell just by the type of writing medium that Ashildr was nearly as old as she claimed to be.
Her handwriting continued to improve through the next dozen or so journals until it settled into a comfortable scrawl that seemed to race across the page in an energetic flow from one day to the next. He wished he could understand what the words were saying, but he could tell from the occasional blots on the parchment they were not all happy memories that she was recording.
He was looking for clues that would trip her up, little telltale signs like massive changes in handwriting or the wrong sort of medium for the time that she claimed but so far each page was like a little snapshot in history. If the contents hadn't been so damning, he could think of several historians who would have been beside themselves with glee to have such beautifully preserved pages from a time centuries gone now.
It looked like the parchment had been originally in scroll form from what he could tell about the binding of the books and the flow of the words over the page as there were unusual breaks in the spacing of the words that denoted they had been cut and pieced together into this journal rather beginning as a bound book.
Ianto was already translating the pages that he had sent to him via text, but he knew that it would be days before the contents would be fully deciphered. There were several leading experts in the ancient Scandinavian languages, but he couldn't easily let them know where or how he had come by these manuscripts.
He would most likely call in a few favors from his contacts at Oxford University, he knew that three of the staff members there in particular were fluent in that ancient language and one of them at least knew the importance of discretion.
Feeling that he had established a good baseline for Ashildr's beginnings, he began to work his way through the next nine bookshelves. Grabbing journals at random to peruse the contents of the page and verify that the writing style and writing medium was consistent with the time frame that she mentioned before moving on the next book. She had marked the outside of her journals with the corresponding years though it was obvious that she had done so in some sort of code so that it wouldn't be so readily apparent what the contents were.
She had come back into the room with a tray with a tea pot and two cups as well as a plate of sandwiches that caused Jack's stomach to growl lightly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since he'd left Cardiff.
Her gaze was hunted when he made his way back to the desk, her fingers drumming nervously on the armrests of her chair though she made sure there was no other sign of her inward trepidation.
"Well Jack? Do you believe me now?"
He poured helped himself to a sandwich and a sip of the tea that she had just poured before he sat back in his seat and regarded her with hooded eyes. "The jury's still out on that one Ashildr, but those books are consistent with what you have told me so far. I do have a question though, how did you come across so much parchment in the tenth and eleventh centuries? It wasn't exactly a common item."
Ashildr's face scrunched up at the question, her gaze falling distant before she muttered a soft curse and got to her feet. Her dress swished angrily about her ankles as she made her way back to the first bookshelf and pulled two journals down.
Coming back to the desk and setting the journals carefully to the corner well away from the teapot, she snapped on two black gloves and began to flip through the thick pages with a soft sigh. Her eyes scanned the contents of each page briefly before she moved on to the next page then smiled when she had found what she was looking for. "I was the storyteller in my village when I was mortal Jack, as such I was also tasked with keeping account of its history and so would have learned the art of making parchment myself. It looks like I had a standing arrangement with the blacksmith for hide so that I could prepare my own sheets of parchment and record my stories."
Jack was flabbergasted when he saw firsthand the fact that she truly did not remember anything about that early part of her strange immortal life. He felt a stab of sympathy at the thought of going through life, never remembering where you had been and not knowing where you were going but just continuing to exist because you had no other choice.
It was the first time since he had arrived at her manor that he felt a little of his distrust melt away when he realized the very real hell that her life had been for the last thirteen hundred years and he found that he could never again envy the fact that she would so soon forget the worst of her pain and sorrow.
It was like having your spirit and soul ripped out with each passing year, knowing that you were losing something so very precious but unable to even remember what made it so precious until it was gone forever only to be remembered in the pages of a forgotten book.
"You really do forget everything don't you Ashildr?"
She raised her gaze to lock onto his troubled steel blue eyes, her breath catching for a moment when she heard the very real sympathy in his voice before she angrily shook her head. "I don't need your pity Jack. I make do as I need to and I go back to read when I forget something or a reread of one of my journals refers to a previous event. I have even had my share of adventures over the years, but now is when it has really gotten interesting. I can feel change in the wind Jack and I want to be a part of that change."
Jack simply grunted in response to her words, his own thoughts in regards to the twenty first century a tightly guarded secret to anyone who was not a part of Torchwood. He knew that there was change on the wind, this was the century when it all changed after all but he was still hesitant about telling her too much until he had a chance to delve more into her journals. "You're not wrong about the change in the wind Ashildr, all we can do really is prepare for it the best way we can and be there to help the Doctor should he ever need us."
He watched her reaction very closely to those words, wondering once again what her intentions towards the Doctor were. She merely gazed pensively back at him, having made no bones about the fact that she was still uncertain about the Doctor or his motives but she could not deny that he had saved the earth more times than anyone could properly remember.
"Only time will really tell Jack. But in the end, I think you will find that we are both on the same side."
He finished the last of his sandwich, grinning softly when he saw the look of surprise on her face when she noticed that he had demolished the entire platter, at least he had managed to catch her off guard for once. With a playful grin, he pulled two fresh gloves out of the box and snapped them back onto his hands before he rose to his feet once more.
"Only time will tell Ashildr, only time will tell. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to dive back in. I've got thirteen hundred years of history to catch up on."
She blew out a frustrated breath, wondering just what it would take to convince him before she called in response. "Take your time Jack, I have nothing scheduled except work on the manor for the next few days. I've prepared a room for you should you need to rest."
"I don't need any sleep, so you don't need to worry about me. I'll just be here learning more about you."
She scowled at the playful note in his voice before rising to her feet and storming out of the study, her stride carrying her through the foyer and up the stairs before Jack let out the breath he had been holding.
"Gwen have you gotten all that?"
"Yes Jack, I have. Keep going through her journals, Ianto and I will keep digging on this end and let you know if we find anything."
He sighed softly when he let his gaze travels down the length of the study, the sheer enormity of the task ahead of him was slightly overwhelming before he whispered. "I'm going to be here for a while, Gwen. There are literally hundreds of journals and I feel like I'm looking for a needle in a haystack."
"Don't worry Jack, we'll keep you on track." Ianto's soft voice whispered in his ear, the soft welsh accent soothing some of his agitation while focusing him once more on the task ahead.
"All right then, let's keep going. I'm getting into the 1100's now and the journals are starting to switch from Norse to English so it should go faster from here on. I will be making comments aloud as I come across things, but I think the most important journals will be after the Doctor visited again in the 1600's."
There was a chorus of agreement from the other end of the line, and then they all settled down to focus on their respective tasks. Jack didn't know what he was looking for, but he had a feeling that it would jump out at him the moment he stumbled across it.
Considering the sheer magnitude of the information before him, he had no other choice but to blindly hope for some luck.